


Aunt May

by lordavon



Series: I'd Rather Hurt Than Live Without You [9]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, spiderpool - Fandom
Genre: Cancer, Chemotherapy, Hospitalization, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Pact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:07:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22139821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordavon/pseuds/lordavon
Summary: Peter deals with Aunt May's illness and Wade leaving him.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Series: I'd Rather Hurt Than Live Without You [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1462909
Comments: 17
Kudos: 79





	Aunt May

**Author's Note:**

> It's been pointed out to me that it is worth noting this series is meant to be read in order. This one in particular is odd, as it starts in time relatively soon after Wade and Peter get together, sometime during Part 3 of the series. It cover the span of time from then, up through the last entry, and forward from there. If you've read the last entry in the series, you'll be able to tell immediately where we catch up.

Wade stood behind Peter, shuffling from foot to foot. “Are you sure, Pet, this is okay?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “I promise you; she will love feeding you. She will be happy to meet you. You will love her.”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna leave now and skip all that.”

Peter stomped on Wade’s foot, hard, as the door opened. “Peter,” said Aunt May, and pulled her nephew in for a warm hug.

Wade took the moment to size May up. She was a little shorter than Peter and a good deal shorter than him. White hair was done up in a proper bun and her dress was lavender and covered in flowers of some sort. The wrinkles of her face indicate a life of laughter, some worries now and then, but mostly joy.

She released Peter to give Wade a look-over much the same as he gave her, and Wade straightened up under the discerning gaze of her blue eyes. “Ma’am,” he said, and thrust a bouquet of flowers at her, because he’d read once in a book that you did that when meeting your date’s parents and this was close enough for him to attempt politeness. 

May took the flowers and tutted at Peter, who blushed and stammered, “Sorry, Aunt May, this is Wade; Wade this is my aunt, May.”

“Ma’am,” Wade said again.

She smiled. “Thank you for the flowers; they’re lovely. Come in and make yourself at home. No hats on in the house.”

Wade glared at Peter as soon as May’s back was turned. “No hats?” he whispered to Peter.

“No hats,” May repeated from down the hallway.

“How the fuck did she hear that?” Wade asked Peter, getting his arm punched in response.

“No swearing either!” he admonished, half a beat behind May’s “Language, young man!”

Peter got into Wade’s face, his voice low and strident. “Be nice. Play by my Aunt’s rules. You are the one who wanted to meet her.” 

“I didn’t expect no hats!” Wade glared. “And she’s not gonna want to eat looking at my face.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect a fucking collar when you took me to St. Margaret’s either, but I’m wearing one!”

“Wait, so you can swear but I can’t? What fucking rule is this?” 

May reappeared behind them. “Dinner? Or will you both be standing in the hallway all evening hissing at each other like overgrown geese?” 

Peter spun around, looking apologetic, but before he could apologize Wade asked, “Is that an option?”

There was a pause, and Peter gulped, and then May smiled at Wade and patted his arm. “Only if you want to spend the evening hungry.”

Wade pretended to give it some thought. “I think I’d rather try some of the delicious food Peter raves about.”

“He’s a flatterer, Peter. I like him.” She turned back down the hallway and Wade followed, Peter bringing up the rear. 

Peter finally stopped glaring at him over the lasagna, too happy to be eating his Aunt’s cooking to continue scowling. Wade watched them chatter back and forth and wondered if this was what life had been like for Peter growing up. He knew Peter’s parents were deceased, as was his Uncle, but even still, the way Peter relaxed around his Aunt was like nothing Wade had seen from him before. 

It made him jealous. Peter never loosened up like that around him.

But then as Aunt May went to get a pie out of the fridge for dessert, she patted him on the shoulder. It just like the way Peter would pat him on the shoulder when walking through the apartment.

Wade wondered if this was what ‘home’ was supposed to feel like. He looked up from his plate and caught Peter smiling at him, and smiled back.

Fuckit, if it wasn’t what homes should feel like, then home sucked. He’d take this any day.

**

Once a week Wade brought Aunt May groceries while Peter was at work. The first time he’d done it she’d refused, and he put them on her steps and left. The second time she declined he did the same thing.

The third time she had him in for tea and spent an hour explaining that she didn’t need him to buy her groceries and she was perfectly capable of feeding herself. He nodded along amiably with everything she said, and left the groceries anyways.

“I’m already doing the shopping for myself and Peter,” he told her. “You hardly add to the bill and now I get the pleasure of seeing you once a week.”

“I can see why my nephew finds you charming.” She refilled his tea. 

“He called me charming?” he asked.

"Actually,” she said after a moment’s consideration, “I believe he’s said you are the most frustrating, annoying, impossible man he’s ever met.”

“Oh.” Wade had to admit that was probably true. 

“He also said you are drop-dead sexy and he’s lucky you’re around, when he’s not wanting to beat you senseless for being an annoyance.”

“Oh.”

“I think that means he likes you, but I don’t understand the slang anymore.”

He didn’t believe that.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, sipping her tea. “It’s not what he says, Wade, it’s how he says it.”

“Sometimes,” Wade said, softly, “It’s what he says, too.”

“What was that?” May asked, pretending she hadn’t heard. He knew she had.

**

It was a few months after she’d cornered Wade regarding his feelings for Peter that she managed the same with her nephew. “So,” she said. “You and Wade have been together a while now.”

Peter watched her warily over his coffee mug. Wade was out of the country on a job, so it was just himself and his Aunt for the monthly dinner. “Yes.”

She hummed. “I’m assuming you’ve had sexual relations by now.”

His face heated. “Aunt May!”

“Is that a yes?”

He ducked his head to stare at his plate. “Yes,” he got out.

“Using protection?”

He made a strangled noise deep in his throat and, before he could think better of it, tugged on the Deadpool charm on his collar. “Yes, we’re using protection,” he said all in one breath, even though they weren’t being as good about it as they had been. They relied heavily on their respective healing abilities. That counted as protection. Of a sort. 

“Good.” She ate some of the vegetables on her plate. “And you’re living together?”

“Aunt May, do you have to interrogate me?” he asked, wanting to run his hands through his hair in frustration.

“Well, you barely talk about him, Peter. I have to find out somehow, and I don’t want to trust everything on the internet.”

Peter frowned. He barely spoke of Wade? He found that hard to believe, given how often they texted each other, called each other, and did nearly everything together. “I don’t?”

She sighed. “You don’t. You’ve been with him for months, now. And barely a word about him. You used to gush about –“ she paused, and said, “When you were with MJ, you talked about her all the time.”

Gwen’s name hung unspoken between them. 

“Just tell me you’re happy with him. It’s hard to tell with you both sometimes, and I worry. I’m not getting younger, Peter. I want to know you’re happy.”

A vague sense of guilt washed through him. “He’s…I’m…I mean…”

“I know he’s Deadpool. He doesn’t keep his identity secret. I know he’s a mercenary, but I also know you wouldn’t live with a bad person, Peter. So, I have been waiting for you to explain.”

When he said nothing, she continued, “Peter, why are you living with him? It’s clear he adores you and that goes far in my books for him, but I would appreciate understanding.”

What to say? How to explain something he didn’t understand himself? There were days they both wanted to slam each other into a wall until the other one bled and days they wanted to slam into each other until it was easier to buy new sheets than wash them. He couldn’t tell her about Wade’s depression or his own. He didn’t know how to explain how he felt when Wade would text him silly memes throughout the day or bring him a coffee on his lunch break. It was all too much; a giant mishmash of emotions and events and daily mundane things that made up a relationship they’d never qualified between themselves let alone with others.

“Peter?” May asked, and he heard the concern in her voice. 

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he said. “What are you asking? Really?”

“I just want to know you are happy. Are loved. I asked him if he loves you. But I want to know what you think.”

He didn’t know where to look, what to say. Buying time, he drank some of his coffee. He took a breath, hands shaking slightly. 

Did he love Wade?

Was he happy?

He looked up at her. “I think he does. It scares me a lot. I haven’t had a lot of luck in relationships. This one…this is important to me. He’s important to me. I don’t know –” he swallowed. It didn’t seem to help. “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

She smiled at him. “Are you happy?” she asked again.

Sometimes? No? Yes?

“I’m happier with him than without him.”

Her eyes were too knowing. “That will do, I suppose.” 

He breathed out in relief, sinking into the chair a bit, and she chuckled. “Was I that scary, Peter?”

“Yes,” he said.

**

The first Christmas, they gave May a book of Peter’s photography. It was a series of goofy and silly selfies of the two of them, just being them. May laughed in delight and gave them each a kiss on the cheek.

She also bought them each a sweater. Peter’s had a Deadpool logo on it and Wade’s had Spider-man’s. They looked at each other and then her. “Well, I know you like Deadpool, Peter – “ she glanced at Wade and couldn’t help a knowing smile, “and then since I got you a sweater, I had to get one for Wade. He always said Spider-man is his favorite, so it seemed appropriate.”

Wade leaned into Peter. “Pay up; I told you she knows.”

“Knows what?” asked May with a slight frown and innocent tone. “That you like Spider-man? You tweet about it, young man; it’s hardly secret.”

**

One night after dinner Wade stopped Peter on the way to the bus stop. “Pet, I don’t think Aunt May is doing well.”

Peter tensed but had to nod.

“We should consider alternatives for her.”

He stopped walking, rounding on Wade with a glare. “We should?”

“Why shouldn’t we?”

“She’s my Aunt!”

Wade shoved him. “Fuck that noise, Pet; you know I visit her once a week. She’s not my Aunt but I fucking adore her. I don’t want something to happen to her when we aren't around."

Peter shoved him into a nearby tree hard enough he wasn't sure the crack was the trunk or Wade. Wade grabbed him by his hair and smashed him face first into the wood.

"Fucking hell." Peter wiped blood from his face and jumped Wade, the two of them wrestling across the sidewalk until Wade finally got Peter with a dirty trick and sat on him on the concrete. 

"I am not putting up with this shit tonight. Your aunt needs help. There's something wrong and we should take her to a doctor."

"I know." Peter's voice broke as he said the simple words. 

"Then why are you fighting me instead of taking her to the doctor?"

Peter sighed and looked away. “I don’t know.”

“Well, that makes two of us, at least.” Wade rolled backwards and stood, reaching a hand to pull Peter up, which Peter took. Then he threw his arms around Wade and hugged him. Wade hugged him and then kissed his forehead. “Look, can you at least agree that if I think she needs to go to a doctor that she probably really needs a doctor?”

Peter looked at him, and started to laugh, the sound rueful. “That – yes.” He sighed again. “I’ll convince her to go. Okay?”

Wade breathed out in relief. “Good. Now tell me I don’t have to go with you. I fucking hate doctors.”

“You don’t,” Peter told him.

**

Wade went anyway. He did care about Aunt May, enough that he didn’t want to let her and Peter face a medical facility alone.

When he heard the word cancer he got up and left the room, walking down the hallway with his hands in his pockets, head down, until he could get outside, take great gulps of air. He found a bench in a little garden and slumped onto it.

It was a dick move, leaving Peter alone to deal with that, and he knew it, but if he’d stayed then Peter would have to deal with him and cancer and Aunt May, and that wasn’t fair to do to him either.

He was the worst fucking boyfriend ever. Couldn’t even lend support.

**

After they got May home they stayed with her, not wanting her to be alone after the diagnosis. Or perhaps Peter couldn’t bear to leave, as if doing so would make May disappear. Wade wasn’t sure which of the three of them was worse off – May dealing with the diagnosis, Peter panicking over potentially losing his Aunt, or he himself fighting down remembered demons.

They watched tv with her, and Wade cooked dinner, and they all talked about anything other than her condition. Peter hugged her when she finally went to bed, watching her climb the stairs, and listened for the door closing to her room before he came back to Wade.

He stood there, staring at Wade for a long time, and Wade pressed back into the tired sofa cushions. “Look, Pet, I’m sorry, I hate doctors and medical tests, and I couldn’t –”

Peter just shook his head. “Are you okay, Wade?”

“I couldn’t handle the – what?”

Peter watched him. “Are you okay?”

“Aren’t you mad I left?”

Peter shook his head again, and sat down next to him. “I am, but it’s not important. It’s just reaction. I know you. You need me as much as Aunt May does.” He took Wade’s hands, looking so earnestly at Wade that for a moment Wade was reminded of Nathan.

An overwhelming sense of responsibility and a martyr complex.

Or maybe Nathan reminded him of Peter.

Fuck.

“I should be asking you that!” he said.

“Yeah, well, that didn’t happen, so clearly you need the help more.”

“Dammit, Pet, your Aunt could be dying and you’re worried about me freaking out?”

“It’s Stage 1. It was caught early. Her prognosis is actually very good, Wade.” There was no recrimination in his voice, even though Wade would know this if he’d stayed at the doctor appointment. Just concern for Wade. 

He felt small and remembered why he fell in love with Peter in the first place. “That’s – that’s good.” 

“I think so. There’s going to be appointments and a treatment schedule. I’m going to need time off work to handle it with her.”

Wade pulled his hands from Peter’s and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. 

“It’s going to be okay, Wade. I can handle it,” Peter told him.

“That isn’t why I’m hugging you.”

“Then why are you? I mean, I’m not arguing.”

Wade pulled back, cupping Peter’s face in his hands. “I’m still here. I’m going to really fucking suck at this. But you need me. I’ll do the best I can.”

Peter stared and then tears formed in his eyes, and he sank into Wade’s arms. “Fuck. I promised myself I wasn’t going to cry, damn you.”

“Yes, I know. I’m the worst.”

“You really are,” Peter said with a hitch in his voice.

When May came downstairs to breakfast the next morning, she found them curled up together on the couch, fast asleep. With an indulgent smile, she found a blanket and draped it over them both.

**

“How about here?”

Peter glanced over at the brochure, picked it up to look at the address. “Too far from her treatment center, which is already the problem.”

“This one, then.”

Peter took one look and laughed. “I can’t afford that.”

“I can.” Wade thrust it at Peter. “It looks nice, and it’s close to her doctor and the medical facility.” 

“Yeah, but it’s a lot.”

“Yeah, but it’s your Aunt.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “I’m aware. She raised me. I’m pretty sure I know who she is.”

“Sooooo,” Wade drawled, “This is a really nice place and it doesn’t smell like chemicals. Look, there’s pretty colors and a movie theater and a pool and multiple parks and lots of community.”

“It costs a fortune!”

Wade threw the brochure at Peter. “Will you fucking let that go? Who cares? It’s money. I have it. Your aunt needs it. This is a simple equation.”

“It’s hard to get used to it! First you brow-beat me back into grad school and now you’re paying all my Aunt’s bills!”

Wade scooped up all the brochures and dumped them on Peter’s head. “I can’t fucking bring myself to go to the hospital with her for treatment so let me at least do something, dammit! Like get her a really nice fucking place to stay with people who are helpful!”

“Don’t shout at me!”

“Then fucking listen to me!”

They both paused, breathing deeply, and Peter put his head in his hands and the next thing he knew he was crying. Wade wrapped himself around Peter and held him.

“I just want her to be okay,” Peter said into Wade’s chest. “I just want everything to be all right, for once. It would be so nice if just one fucking time things could go all right.”

Wade squeezed him, and said nothing, because in his experience, nothing ever went right.

**

Peter left the hospital and looked around until he found Wade sitting on a bench. Wade looked up as Peter sat next to him. “Did they – is she – are you – “

“She’s okay. She got through the surgery. She’s…she’s all right,” Peter said, and slumped into Wade’s arms, dissolving into tears of relief.

**

The second Christmas was at the assisted living facility. Peter and Wade agreed that the dinner was very good but didn’t compare to May’s cooking.

She had a lovely set of apartments on an upper floor. Many of the things from her home decorated the rooms, including multiple photos of Peter and a few now of Peter and Wade. 

May look frail, and weak, and she moved much slower. He didn’t like it. Peter was antsy, watching her, trying to be calm and upbeat to keep her spirts up, even while she assured him she got on very well with the others on her floor and was loving the activities the facility offered.

It didn’t feel like home.

Then May patted his shoulder as she walked past him, fetching a blanket from a closet to set on her lap. 

She was still May. It would be okay.

*bang*

“Hello Mr. Parker?”

Peter stared at his phone screen. “Yes?” he asked. “Did something happen to the payments for Aunt May?”

“There’s been an accident. We found her collapsed in her rooms this morning. She’s en route to the hospital and you are her emergency contact.”

Only the fact that he could stick to anything kept the phone in his hand. “Is she…which hospital?” He jotted down the name on a nearby piece of paper. “I...thank you. I’m on my way.” He threw on a pair of pants and found sneakers. He scribbled a note saying where he’d gone and left it on the kitchen table, in case Nathan stopped by to make sure he was eating. He dropped in randomly these days with updates on the search for Wade.

When he got to the hospital and gave his name a nurse came to speak to him. “We’re running tests now, Mr. Parker. You can wait here. Has there been any recent problems with Mrs. Parker?”

He shook his head. “No, nothing. She’s been normal.”

The nurse patted his leg. “Get some coffee. The doctor knows you’re here and she’ll come around once the tests are done.”

Peter just nodded.

*bang*

“We’ve found new evidence of the cancer, Mr. Parker. We’re going to need to engage in aggressive treatment this time.”

He stared, numb, at the doctor. “What –what does that mean?”

“Chemotherapy and possibly more surgery.”

He had no idea how to pay for it without Wade, but it didn’t matter. He could drop out of school again, use the funds from his tuition instead for May. “Okay. Yes. That…yes.”

“Mr. Parker.” The doctor was young, and looked kind, and so very serious. “This is stage four, and she’s elderly. This will be very hard on her to go through. You may want to consider that she may not recover.”

Why didn’t he feel anything? Aunt May was dying and he felt so numb, it was as if his heart had simply stopped. 

“There’s still a chance she can be cured, yes?”

The doctor shuffled some paperwork. “There is, yes, or we wouldn’t recommend the treatment.”

“Then let’s do what needs to be done.”

He stood up. “I’ll get her schedule from the nurse for her appointments and –”

“Mr. Parker.” She interrupted him, and he quieted. “The hospital can recommend someone to speak to if you need to. There’s also a group that meets for caregivers.”

The only person he wanted to talk to was Wade, and the thought was enough to break through the ice. Raw anger filled him. Wade should fucking be here. It was an effort to keep his voice calm, level. “Thank you. I’ll consider it.”

*bang*

“WHERE THE HELL IS HE?” Peter shouted as he slammed through the door to St. Margaret’s. It was early enough there were only a few people in the dimly lit bar, but the moment they saw Peter guns appeared in their hands, pointed at him, and they looked at Weasel as if for permission.

“Get the fuck out of my – what the hell happened to you?” Weasel’s expression went from disgusted annoyance to startled concern in the time it took Peter to cross the room and jump the bar. Peter latched onto Weasel’s shirt. 

“Where the fucking hell is he, Weasel? He should fucking be here right now!” Spider-sense tingled at the back of his skull and he ignored it. Getting shot didn’t matter right now. 

Aunt May was dying.

Wade should fucking be here.

Weasel put out his hands, gesturing for the patrons to lower their weapons, before pulling Peter off him and dragging him into the office, shutting the door. “You are such fucking trash. I have no idea where he is, asshole. What the fuck did you do to him in the first place and why do you look like hell right now?” 

“Like hell you don’t know where he is, you’re his best friend!”

“He came in two months ago, told me to cancel his number after a week, and that he’d contact me, and that’s the last I’ve fucking heard from him. His phone’s disconnected as requested and he hasn’t called me. Where-ever the fuck he’s gone to ground, he might as well be buried in it.” Weasel frowned as Peter flinched. “What the fuck did I just say that made you do that?”

“My aunt’s dying.”

“Well, shit, that sucks. But it doesn’t make you any more welcome here.”

Peter ran his hands through his hair. His breath was ragged, chest heaving, and he wanted to scream in frustration. 

“Wade adores my Aunt. He’ll want to know. If he doesn’t want to see me, he’s a coward but fine. But he should go fucking see her. She’s asking after him.”

Weasel looked around the mess of his office before he looked back at Peter, his eyes coming to rest on the Deadpool charm and collar. He reached up and tapped the metal disk. “You’re still wearing it?” he asked, sounding confused.

Tears filled Peter’s eyes and Weasel snorted. “Oh, hell no, I’m not playing ‘comfort the ex’ here. Don’t even think it. Wade’s better off without you; you screw with his head and his work.”

“Fuck you.”

“Sorry, not interested.” He hesitated. “Look, if Wade ever contacts me I’ll tell him about your Aunt.”

Peter gave a shaky nod. “That – that’ll do. I guess.”

Weasel tapped the charm again. “You should take that off. His brain is such swiss cheese he probably doesn’t even remember you, princess.”

Peter caught the charm in his hand for reassurance. “No. If Wade wants to break up with me, he can come say it to my face.”

Weasel shrugged and opened the door, gesturing Peter through it. “Whatever. Get out of my bar. I don’t want to ever see your face again unless by some unholy miracle you convince Wade to take you back. And that’s only because I’ll put up with you because Wade’s my friend.” 

“He’s the asshole who walked out on me, Weasel. I didn’t do anything; he just fucking up and left with no warning.”

“Well at least he had the sense to finally dump you, then.”

Peter flipped him off as he stalked out of the office and through the bar. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, and he wondered how much of the conversation everyone had overheard.

Out of spite, he slammed the door to the bar hard enough he could hear it rattle in the frame.

*bang*

“Peter?”

He woke, lifting his head from the side table and looking blearily at his Aunt. “Hi, Aunt May. How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

Tired. He wanted to laugh. She’d been through another round of surgery and now was on chemo and the chemo was just wearing her down. She was nauseous all the time and there was a nurse at her apartments to help her because she was having trouble getting around and she was … tired.

“Do you need anything? I can get you something to eat or some water or –“

“I’m not hungry, Peter.”

Fuck, he wanted to cry. “You need to eat, Aunt May. You have to eat.”

She smiled at him, drifting off again. “You sound…like Wade. Maybe I’ll eat…later.”

He watched her, tense, making sure she was still breathing, until he fell asleep as well.

*bang*

Peter started collecting things.

Alcohol.

Blood thinners.

Anticoagulants.

Needles and tubing.

He wasn’t Wade. He’d seen Wade’s healing mutation just pop bullets out as he healed. Peter couldn’t do that. He’d still heal faster than he’d die, though.

Unless he slowed himself down.

Probably.

He was pretty sure by this point that Wade had killed himself, at least once. In rare moments he thought maybe Wade wouldn’t; maybe he’d take seriously the agreement. But every time he’d consider it, he’d despair. Peter’s statement had been if Wade died, he’d die too. Wade never agreed not to die without him.

He lined everything up in the medicine cabinet and put a note on the mirror. “Wait until you’re sure,” it read. 

Sure May was gone.

Sure he was alone.

But if Wade killed himself, and Peter couldn’t imagine that not being true, nothing was holding Peter back. 

Especially with Wade gone.

Especially if Aunt May died.

*bang*

Nathan’s reports were terse, his visits infrequent. He sent regular updates through email or text. Peter would startle each time his phone alert sounded. Each time he would hold his breath, looking at the screen, sighing with crushed hope when it wasn’t Wade.

Then he’d open the message, and feel that extra weight when it was Nathan, reporting yet again that he hadn’t found Wade on any of the leads.

*bang*

Peter sat with May, holding her hand. “I love you,” she told him, her voice soft. “And I’m so very proud of you.” The machines were quiet in the background, but he still had to lean forward to hear her.

Her eyes shut and she went back to sleep. He sat there, next to her bed, for hours; he never let go of her hand the whole time.

*bang*

It took another two weeks for her to die, but she didn’t wake again.

*bang*


End file.
